


Mixtape

by bar2d2s



Category: The Flash (Comics)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-30 14:03:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3939556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bar2d2s/pseuds/bar2d2s
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Do you want me to make you a mix tape?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mixtape

“Do you want me to make you a mix tape?”

Of all the questions to ever come flying out of the perpetual left field that was James’ mouth, that was certainly one of the odder ones. He set down the blowtorch, lifted up his welder’s mask, and quirked a brow at the blonde man.

“Is this because I’ve been playing country music all week? Are you trying to tell me something, James?” A nervous laugh bubbled out of James’ throat, and he tugged at the cuffs of his suit.

“Yes. No. Yes, I want to tell you something, no this has nothing to do with your  _godawful addiction_  to the country station.”

Hartley made a small noise to show that he was still listening before flipping his mask back down. His instruments might look dainty, but they were shaped by hammer and flame, like any other decent weapon. “So, what would be on this hypothetical mix tape?” Clearing his throat, James started to count off songs on his fingers.

“Oh, y'know. Free Fallin’. I know you like Tom Petty. Every good mix needs to have some Skynard on it, so maybe What’s Your Name. Don’t Stop Believing, because I’m an asshole like that. Couple of songs from Rocky Horror, the Gaga song you’ve been using as my ringtone, Queen-” Hart snorted, and he froze. “What?”

“Queen? And which Queen song would you be putting on?” James cracked a smile.

“ _One_  Queen song? Blasphemy, you’re getting three. Fat-Bottomed Girls, You’re My Best Friend, and…” He trailed off, wiping his hands on his pants. It was always just this side of too warm in Hart’s workshop.

“And?” The other man prompted, still banging away at his…whatever it was. Rocket-powered bagpipes, was James’ best guess.

“Somebody to Love.”

The hammering came to a slow stop, as if Hartley were trying to fit together the pieces of a puzzle. When he finally dropped the mallet to his work bench and pulled off the mask entirely, his face was red and flushed. A trickle of sweat ran from his hairline to his cheek, and Hart brushed it away with the back of his hand. But he was smiling. “Sounds, uh. Sounds like a good tape.” He said, leaning against the bench casually. “If you’re really that concerned about what I blast in here, go ahead and make it. But I warn you, you’re getting one back. You hungry? I feel like I could eat a horse.”

As they walked out of the workshop, James trailing ever so slightly behind because he’d stopped to turn off the radio, curiosity got the better of him. “So, um. What would you put on mine?” Pausing at the doorway, Hartley flashed him a megawatt smile, cheeks still pink.

“I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”


End file.
